You've Got A Friend In Me
by MizDenton
Summary: A nonMutant photographer saves Professor Xavier's life and changes his own.


"You've Got A Friend In Me"

By Amy M. Denton

There were days when the mutant rights cause seemed to stall out and lose whatever momentum it had. Then there was days when the mutant rights cause seemed in full retreat and doomed to failure. Then, there were days when the mutant rights cause seemed poised on the brink of success and everything seemed possible. Such a day happened when Professor Xavier and Dr. Jean Grey went on a tour of the the brand new genetics lab at Vassar College, a famous liberal arts college located about an hour to the north of New Salem, in the town of Poughkeepsie.

Vassar, one of the fabled Seven Sister colleges, was known more for producing acclaimed actresses and award-winning journalists but that was changing. The board of trustees, with the blessing of both past and present students, had chosen to create a new section in the Science Department devoted to Genetics, more specifically human mutation. Vassar prided itself on being at the forefront of any societal change and mutants most definitely filled that definition. At the heart of the genetics program would be a state of the art laboratory that would be dedicated to the study of human mutations in all its forms. The funding for the lab had come from a variety of sources including a particularly generous donation from The Xavier Foundation.

That had been three years ago. Professor Xavier had attended the groundbreaking ceremony and, now, was seeing the finished product. Jean, Dr. Grey, had accompanied him and been given strict instructions by Dr. Hank McCoy, a friend and co-worker of theirs to remember as much as possible. He was a geneticist and, unfortunately, hadn't been able to come, so, he wanted a detailed report.

"It never fails to amaze me as to what the human mind can conceive and create." Professor Xavier said to Margaret Thurston, the President of Vassar, as they walked down the hallway away from the new lab. "That lab is breathtaking. I know great things will be discovered there. The way the world sees mutants will be forever changed and it will be a good change."

"I can't tell you how happy I am that the lab meets with your approval, Professor Xavier." President Thurston said. "It would have never come into being without generous people such as yourself."

"Any time I can advance the cause of mutants, I am more than happy to do so." Professor Xavier replied.

"And what did you think of our new facilities, Dr. Grey?" President Thurston asked. "Did they meet with your approval?"

"Oh, absolutely. Dr. McCoy will be so unhappy that he missed this tour. He would have been in Heaven. Don't you think, Professor?" Jean asked him.

"Certainly. He would be like a kid in a candy store."  
The trio reached the end of the hallway and turned down another hallway that lead to the outside. At the end of the hallway was door with a glass insert in it; through the glass insert a group of photographers could be seen.

"I know you said you don't like publicity." President Thurston said to the Professor, as they approached the door. "But if you wouldn't mind answering a few questions, maybe a take a picture or two? It won't take long and it would mean a lot for the college."

"All right. I don't mind. Although, I wonder why they would want to waste film on me when it could be far better spent on the both of you." Professor Xavier said.

President Thurston laughed and Jean, long inured to Professor Xavier's charm, rolled her eyes.

_/I think you've been spending too much around Bobby and his friends./_ Jean said telepathically.

_/I'll never tell./_ Professor Xavier replied.

President Thurston went ahead of the two of them to open the door and usher them outside.

"At least, it's pleasant outside." Jean said to Professor Xavier.

For the next several minutes, cameras flashed, questions were asked and answered and the cause of mutant rights seemed ever closer. Towards the end of the questioning and picture taking, a man stepped from the crowd, pointed at gun at Professor Xavier and pulled the trigger twice. There was no time to stop the assailant or the bullets coming out of his gun. Jean just barely had enough time to project a force field to protect herself and the professor. A blur of brown whipped past her peripherial vision.

People scattered and screams of panic filled the air.

"Are you all right?" Jean asked him.

"I'm fine." Professor Xavier said to her.

His would-be attacker hadn't gotten far. On the other side of the sidewalk, two large men, possibly the press, possibly the police, were sitting on him. The gun lay on the grass next him.

"Are you sure?" Jean asked the Professor.

"Yes, I'm sure." He replied but allowed himself to checked over by her. "Satisfied?" he asked.

Jean sat back on her heels. "I'll be satisfied when we are on our way home."

"Oh, My God!" President Thurston voice cut through the chaos. "Someone dial 911, this man's been shot!"

Jean looked at Professor Xavier for a moment before he waved her off. "Go."

She joined President Thurston just a few feet away and knelt down next to a man lying on his side in the grass, a camera lying next to him.

"I just...I didn't...I had no idea. He must be one of the photographers." President Thurston managed to get out. "Is it bad?"

Jean did not answer immediately. She was focused on the man before her. He was about Scott's age and looked enough like him to disturb her. She swallowed, put from her mind the disturbing images that came to her and rolled the man on his back. Deep blue eyes stared up at her for a moment before his eyelids slid shut. His dark hair stood out against his pale skin, his features were pinched in pain, and his breathing was uneven.

It was quite obvious why when Jean started to check him over. Down on his left side, a few inches above his belt line, his shirt was soaked with blood. She pulled up his shirt and found two bullets holes in his side.

President Thurston turned white. "Oh my God." she mumbled.

"Do you have a first-aid kit?" Jean asked her.

"There's one inside, I think." President Thurston said, faintly.

"Go get it." Jean replied. She pulled off her suit jacket, folded it over twice and held it against the wounds.

The man moaned and his eyelids fluttered open. He stared at her but didn't say anything.

She put a hand on his shoulder and said "You've got to lie still and not move. You'll be okay."

He nodded, his breathing coming in more labored gasps.

"My name is Jean. What's yours?" she asked, in an attempt to keep the man from panicking too much.

"Warren...Warren Lipton. I'm a...a photographer with the...The Dutchess County Register." he said.

"That was incredibly brave what you did." She readjusted the makeshift bandage and increased the pressure.

Warren gasped from the pain. "I wasn't trying to...to be brave...This...hurts like...hell."

Despite the seriousness of the situation, Jean had to smile. She looked up and scanned the area. If the paramedics didn't show soon, Warren was a goner. One of those bullets had to have punctured a lung.

The paramedics arrived then. Jean told them what she knew, then stepped back and let them do their job. A few minutes later, Warren was on his way to the nearby hospital but it didn't look good for him. The police came on the paramedics heels and began their investigation. Jean gave her statement to two detectives, along with her cell phone number and the number at the school. She watched, then, as the police carted the would-be assailant away.

What a waste. So young and so full of hate, she thought.

_/Some people just chose not to understand./_ She heard the Professor say in her head.

_/Doesn't make it right./_ She replied. She looked around the area, the refuse left by the paramedics, Warren's camera and shook her head. She turned and walked back to over to the Professor. "I think it is time to go." Jean said to him.

He nodded.

President Thurston, released from talking to the detectives came over to Jean and Professor Xavier, first-aid kit still in her hand. "I just...I'm just... I'm appalled. I'm speechless. I just don't know what to say." She shook her head. "That poor man..."

"President Thurston?" An older woman came up to her. "I know this is a terrible time but the school's attorney needs to speak with you."

"Oh, of course." she sighed and looked at both Professor Xavier and Jean. "I am so sorry but I am very happy that neither of you were hurt."

Professor Xavier nodded and told her. "We can talk later."

President Thurston nodded and hurried away with the other woman.

Jean took a good look at Professor Xavier. Aside from a rumpled suitcoat, he looked fine. She looked down at her own suit, the knees of her pants were covered in mud and her suit coat was covered in blood and totally ruined. She sighed and started to laugh.

"Scott is not going to be happy with either of us." she said after she stopped laughing.

"No, I don't think he will be." Professor Xavier replied. "Hopefully, we'll be home before he finds out."

They almost made it. They were on the road leading to Graymalkin Lane when Scott's voice echoed in Jean's head.

_/Jean? Are you all right? Is the Professor all right? What happened/_

At least, he wasn't yelling, she thought.

_/We're both fine. We'll be home shortly and I'll explain everything then./_ Jean said.

Fifteen minutes later, Jean pulled the van up to the front door of the mansion and stopped. Scott was waiting for them at the top of the stairs. He came down the stairs but waited until both Jean and the Professor were out of the van before speaking.

"If this is what happens when you two go off somewhere, I'm going with you next time. Someone needs to keep the both of you out of trouble." he said.

He was mad and upset and scared and Jean did not have to be a telepath to pick up on that fact. She simply stood there and waited as his gaze swept over her before moving on to Professor Xavier.

The front door opened and, Claire, a 14 year-old shapeshifter came out onto the front steps, a handful of students following her. "Mr. Summers?" she asked.

"It's all right, Claire." Scott replied. "Go back inside."

Kate Renard, the school's non-mutant English teacher, came up behind the children and started to herded the students back inside.

"Come on, guys. You know you're not supposed to be out here right now. Let's go." she said.

Scott waited until the door shut before hugging Jean, tightly. "You have no idea how badly you scared me." He pulled back and took her face in his hands. "Losing you once was more than enough."

"I know I scared you but I managed to scare myself pretty bad, too." Jean replied.

Scott nodded and kissed her. He turned his attention to Professor Xavier, who was looking rather upbeat, despite his disheveled appearance and the events of the last few hours.

"When did you hear about it?" Professor Xavier asked. "Was it the evening news?"

Scott nodded. "It was the 'Breaking News'. You're okay? Really?"

Professor Xavier nodded. "I'm fine, really." But then his expression darkened. "It's sad that all the good that was accomplished today will be overshadowed by this. Just when I think we might have moved forward just a bit..." He looked at the both of them. "I'll see you both inside."

"I have to park the van." Jean said to Scott. "Care to come with me?"

"Like I would let you out of my sight now." Scott replied.

"His name is Warren." Jean said, pulling the van around the front drive and heading for the garage.

"They guy who got shot?"

Jean nodded. "He's a photographer for the Dutchess County Register and he looks enough like you to make me look twice."

"Really?"

"Yes, really."

She parked the van and turned the engine off. She climbed out and Scott followed.

"What happened?" Scott asked. He took her hand in his and they walked from the garage.

"I don't know. It's one of those 'it happened so fast' things. One minute, we're posing for pictures and then, chaos." She paused, then added. "I'm going to go see him as soon as I can."

Scott stopped and looked at her. "If you go, I'm coming with you."

The doctor assigned to Warren had already been in to see him so, he was a bit surprised to see the door to his room open and another doctor came in. She was tall, had a head of fiery red hair and wore a white lab coat. Who else could she be? She looked vaguely familiar but he couldn't have said why. The painkillers and antibiotics he was on conspired to make his brain feel like it was wrapped in cotton.

She came over to his bed and looked down at him. "Warren? Do you remember me from Vassar a couple of days ago? I'm Dr. Grey. I was with the gentleman you saved."

It took a moment to process but finally, the memory came to the surface. "Yeah, I remember." he rasped.

"Professor Xavier would like you to know how grateful he is and to let you know that if you ever need anything, and I do mean anything, to let him know and he will take care of it."

A man, dressed in coveralls, wearing sunglasses, came into the room just then but Warren didn't pay him a lot of attention. Whatever he wanted, he would wait until Dr. Grey was finished. She gave the man a look but said nothing to him.

Warren swallowed and tried to say something but he started to cough. When he was finished, his eyes were watering and his throat was raw. He was able to take a ragged breath but that was all, speech, at the moment, was beyond him. Jean poured him a cup of water and held it for him to drink from.

"Thank you." he whispered, after taking several sips. "He's all right, isn't he?"

"Yes, he's fine. He is, of course, concerned about you."

Warren nodded. He hurt all over and while he was happy that the man he'd saved was all right, he just wanted to go back to sleep and escape the pain.

"I'm going to go now and let you rest. I'll be back later and we can talk some more." Dr. Grey said.

Warren nodded. He would, hopefully, be able to process everything that had happened as soon as the drugs wore off. But first, he needed to sleep. He'd figure everything else out later.

The next time Warren saw Dr. Grey, almost a week had gone by. It wasn't that he hadn't given her a lot of thought because he hadn't. He had been more focused on recovering from his wounds and that had been slow going indeed. He was getting better but that was overshadowed most of the time by a weakness he hadn't ever experienced.

One of the requirements given him was to walk up and down the hallway of the floor he was on, at least once, preferably twice. The more he walked, he was told, the better he would feel. He wasn't too sure about that but he did what he was told. Walking couldn't cause any more pain then he was already in, could it?

It was after one of those walking sessions that Dr. Grey came by to see him. He was just settling into bed when the door opened and Dr. Grey came in. She was followed by a man wearing coveralls and sunglasses? He shook his head. What kind of drugs did the hospital have him on?

"Warren? It's Dr. Grey. How are you doing? You look better then the last time I saw you." she said to him.

He shrugged or tried to. "I've gone from feeling like I swallowed a white hot poker to swallowing a red hot one."

The man snorted.

A partial memory surfaced in Warren's mind and he said "You were here earlier, weren't you?"

She nodded. "That was to convey Professor Xavier's thanks. Today, I'm thanking you." she looked at the man. "My husband, Scott, wanted to thank you as well."

Warren gave Scott a lopsided smile. "You're welcome."

"I've been reading about you in the paper." Jean told Warren "And I've got a question for you. You're going to think it's an odd question."

Warren leaned back in the bed and shook his head. "After everything I've been through in the past week, nothing will seem odd."

"Are there any mutants in your family?"

Warren stared at Jean for a long moment. "Okay, you're right, that's an odd question. Why do you ask?"

"One of the articles I read made mention of the fact that you had been quite outspoken in your support of mutants and mutant rights. Usually people who are as outspoken as the paper claims you are, are mutants themselves or have family members who are. I also discovered that you weren't supposed to be at press conference at Vassar. You traded with another staff photographer. I'm just curious as to why you would do that if you didn't have any mutants in your family."

Warren did not respond immediately. He didn't quite know what to say. He hadn't expected to be exposed so quickly or so neatly. He licked his lips and said "Maybe I'm the mutant."

Jean quirked an eyebrow at him. "Are you?"

He shook his head. "I read in a press release from Vassar that you and Professor Xavier were coming to the college and your name rang a bell with me. I did a little digging around and finally figured out why I knew your name. I remember watching you on television during the hearings."

Jean carefully schooled her face into neutrality. She had gotten a lot of publicity from her televised testimony before the Senate. Not all of the press had been favorable.

"The best part of all that testimony was when you asked to see the file that Senator...Whats-his-name had. He didn't give it to you, you asked again and held out your hand and the file started to come to you on its own. The look on the Senator's face was priceless. I laughed so hard, I nearly fell out of my chair." Warren said, with a smile.

Behind Jean, Scott coughed.

"My sister could do what you did" Warren continued. "At least, she could until she killed herself." He chewed on the corner of his lower lip. "I switched places with the other guy because I wanted to talk to you. I wanted to know what it was like. I wanted to know if... doing what you do is so terrible that she had to kill herself." He looked down at his hands then back up at Jean. "But, uh, I never got the chance. You know what happened there."

"Yeah, I do." She came and sat down on the edge of Warren's bed. "No. What I can do is not so horrible as to make me what to kill myself. But, if you didn't know what was happening to you or what to do with the ability, it could send you over the edge." She looked behind herself and smiled at Scott. "You also need to have people who love you and respect you and will always love and respect you, no matter what."

"Elissa had that." Warren said. "My parents, myself, my brother, her friends. Well, the majority of her friends. We all loved her. We didn't care that she could move stuff with her mind. I thought it was kinda cool but that none of that mattered. She had convinced herself that she was worthless, that her...ability was some kind of punishment for something she had done and no matter what her family said or did, we could never convince her otherwise." He stopped talking and swallowed hard.

Jean nodded. "How old were you when she killed herself?"

"Twenty-two. I was a junior in college. She was three years older than me so, she had already graduated and was on her own." He smiled, briefly at the memory. "Ten years later and I still don't know why she did it. That's all I wanted to know." He swallowed again and blinked away the tears that threatened to fall.

Silence replaced the conversation and nothing was said for a long time. Then, without warning, Jean stood and hugged Warren as best she could. He was startled but it did make him feel a tiny bit better.

"She didn't know why either." Jean whispered in his ear. Then she was gone, the door swinging shut behind her so quickly that not ever her husband knew she was gone. He looked at Warren, then at the door, then left without so much as backward glance at him.

Scott caught up with Jean just outside the employee entrance to the hospital.

"Red?" He called after her. "Wait up."

She stopped and simply turned into his arms, tears spilling out unchecked.

He held her and waited until the tears had abated before asking. "What's going on?"

"That could've been me." she said. "If my mother hadn't been so determined to get me some help, that could've been me."

"You could've weathered it. You're stronger than you give yourself credit for." Scott replied.

Jean shook her head. "No, I couldn't have. That's why I had to leave. I didn't want to be reminded of anything else from that time before I began to learn to control my powers. You really do think you're going insane."

"You're preaching to the choir, you know that."

She nodded. "I know, I know. I guess I didn't expect his story to remind me quite so much of what might've been."

He took her face in his hands and said "But that's a time that will never happen. You did overcome it and now, you have the power to help people like his sister and yourself."

She nodded and swiped the back of her hand across her face, wiping the tears away. "Everything you say makes total sense, it does. But I can't explain it. Just listening to him and I was..." she shrugged.

They stood there, looking at each other.

_/You know I understand and will support you no matter what./ _Scott said to her.

_/Of course. It's just...upseting. Thank you for coming with me./_ Jean responded.

_/Any time./_

Two days later, a letter was waiting for Warren when he returned from his required walking. He didn't recognize the handwriting but the name on the return address sparked a memory. The Xavier School for Gifted Youngsters. Wasn't Xavier the name of the man he had saved?

Settling into bed, he slit open the envelope, pulled out a piece of paper and began to read.

_Dear Warren,_

_My name is Charles Xavier. We've met only once and that was _

_two weeks ago at Vassar University. I am forever in your debt. _

_As partial payment of that debt, I would like to open my home to _

_you while you recover from your injuries for as long as is needed._

_If you would like to accept my offer, please call the phone number _

_on the letterhead. If not, I wish you well in your future endeavors._

_Please know that if you ever need anything, do not hesitate to inform_

_me. I will do whatever I can to help. _

_I look forward to meeting you (again)._

_Sincerely,_

_Charles Xavier_

Warren read the letter twice, then one more time to make sure he hadn't misread. He looked up at the top of the letter. The Xavier School? Obviously Professor Xavier was the headmaster at some kind of school. He made a face. Did he want to spend his recovery time surrounded by kids?

Why not? It's not like I've got anywhere else to go.

The Register had been very generous with him, in terms of sick leave. In fact, his boss had called a few days ago and told him to take as much time as he needed. While that made him uneasy, The Register could give his job away if he took too long, it also made his life a little easier. He wouldn't be pushing himself and, quite possibly cause a relapse, to return to work as soon as possible. He had no one waiting for him, no parents, no girlfriend, not even a pet.

His family had scattered to the four winds after Elissa's death and he hadn't talked to any of them in years. The only exception had been his mother. She called once a year on his birthday. She had also called when she found out what had happened to him but not that even that conversation had been very long.

He looked at the letter, he looked at the phone, then reached for the handset.

And so, on a day very much like the one that had so radically changed his life, Warren found himself sitting in a wheelchair outside the hospital's front door waiting for his ride to The Xavier School for Gifted Youngsters. A breeze blew past, ruffling his hair and reminding him how nice it was to be outside after being cooped up inside for almost three weeks. There was a hint of the much anticipated Spring in the air. Now, if it would only hurry up and get there.

He leaned back in the wheelchair, grimacing as the stitches holding his wounds closed protested the movement. He was healing nicely but the stitches weren't due to come out for another week at least and they were inching like mad right then. He took as deep a breath as he could and was grateful. Lying on the grass at Vassar, he wasn't sure he would be around to breathe at all.

A late model sedan, a Lincoln Towncar, Warren guessed, pulled into the parking lot and made its way up to the front doors. It pulled to a stop in front of him and a young man, maybe 18, got out.

_Professor Xavier sent a teenager to pick me up?_ Warren thought. He exchanged a dubious glance with the aide sent to wait with him. His experience with teenage drivers had been anything been good.

"Mr. Lipton?" The young man asked, walking up to Warren. "I'm Bobby Drake. I'm from The Xavier School. I'm here to pick you up. Dr. Grey sends her apologies. She was going to come but she stuck doing something she couldn't get away from. She was going to send Mr. Summers but he got stuck too. Don't worry. I'm a good driver. Mr. Summers wouldn't let drive his car if I wasn't."

Warren looked up at Bobby. If he had Dr. Grey's approval, he had his.

"Okay."

The aide handed Bobby a release form clipped to a clipped board. "You are 18, aren't you?" she asked.

"Yes, ma'am." Bobby replied. He signed form, handed it back and received a sheaf of papers in return.

"All right, Mr. Lipton, you are free to go." The aide said to Warren. "I hope you have a speedy recovery."

"Thanks."

She helped Warren into the car, then went back into the hospital.

A few minutes later, with his belongings in the trunk, Warren was on his way. He slept most of the way but woke up just in time to appreciate the scenery. New York State in Spring was always breathtaking, the trees were blooming, everything was alive and it made the drive that much more pleasant.

The best was yet to come though. Bobby turned onto the drive leading to the school and Warren got his first glimpse of the mansion. His mouth opened in surprise. He had been to a lot of big, fancy houses in his time as a photographer. He had even been to a few mansions but all of those were dwarfed against the mansion that housed The Xavier School.

"Wow. It looks like those mansions you see in those gothic movies." Warren said.

Bobby grinned. "Some of the kids here think it looks like Hogwarts."

Warren nodded. The mansion did bear an striking resemblance to the school in the famous Harry Potter books.

"I told you I was a good driver. You couldn't have slept most of the way if I wasn't."

Warren smiled and said "I'll never admit it."

Bobby laughed. He pulled the car up to the front door and stopped. He peered through the passenger side window and said "Almost everyone's here to see you." He climbed from the car and went around to open the door for Warren.

The first to greet Warren was Professor Xavier himself. He clasped Warren's hand warmly and said "Welcome. I'm glad you decided to come. And thank you."

"You're welcome." Warren replied.

The next person to be introduced was Storm, then Logan. A few of the older students had come out to see the school's newest guest, too. A conversation was started and soon, Warren was describing how he had gotten into photography in the first place.

At the head of the car, Bobby handed over the sheaf of papers to Jean and said "The hospital asked how old I was. I don't think I was what they were expecting."

"You need to be a legal adult in order to sign someone out of a hospital." Jean replied. She looked through the stack of papers handed to her, then looked past Bobby to Warren. "If you'll excuse me, I have a new patient to keep up with."

She didn't see Bobby's smile.

"Far be it from me to end such an obviously interesting conversation, but he," she pointed at Warren "needs to go in and get some rest before dinner."

"Certainly." The Professor said to Jean. "We will see you at dinner." he said to Warren.

But Warren did not make it to dinner. From the moment his head touched the pillow until Jean came to wake him for the breakfast the next morning, he slept. It was the first night in almost a month that someone wasn't waking him up every few hours. He didn't know that Jean had been in to check on him through the night but then, she had been able to do what she needed without waking him.

The next morning, breakfast was a whole new experience for him. Eating a meal with 35 hyperactive teenagers will do that for a person. It was also where Warren learned, exactly, what the 'gifted' in 'Gifted Youngsters' stood for. The floating pancakes were a dead giveaway.

After breakfast, Warren was left to his own devices, until lunchtime because school was still in session. Everyone else had something to do, except himself. But he solved that problem in no time. He found a nice spot outside in the sun, overlooking the basketball court. Book in hand, he settled into a chair and lost himself in the pages of a book he had found in one of the libraries in the mansion.

"That must be an excellent book." Professor Xavier said, rolling up next to Warren. "I've called your name twice."

Warren started and looked guiltily at the Professor. "It's just been a while since I've been able to read for pleasure. This place is wonderful. I had no idea a school for mutants existed. How long has this place been around?"

"About ten years. Jean tells me your sister was a telekine." Professor Xavier said. "She also told me that your sister killed herself. I am truly sorry for your loss. That is why I built this school, to keep things like that from happening."

Warren felt the stinging prick of unshed tears but nodded anyway. "Elissa would have really liked this place. She wouldn't have felt the need to hide what she was."

"Which was my whole purpose in creating the school."

Warren nodded again. Then cocked his head, an idea was taking form in his mind. "You said that if I ever needed anything, just to ask."

"Absolutely."

"Do you need a photography teacher?"

Professor Xavier smiled and said "I think that can be arranged."


End file.
